Rider of Salem
by jsun25
Summary: Revenge may be a dish best served cold, but vengeance is a dish best served hot. As a man enters his final moments, he's given a way out. What happens when a Rider comes to Salem? Rated "T" for death and language.
1. A New Rider

**So we read The Crucible in English class, and this story is what my warped mind came up with after combining the play with the Ghost Rider. As there are at least three different kinds of entities speaking in this story, I will list the entities and what their dialogue looks like. While I don't believe that you need to have read or watched The Crucible before reading my story, I think it would help you understand why our main character is in his current situation. And now, without further ado, I give you the first chapter of the first ever Crucible/Ghost Rider crossover, Rider of Salem.**

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><p><em>Italics: Spirit of Vengeance<em>

**"Bold": Ghost Rider**

"Normal": Human

_**"Bolded Italics": Rider and Vengeance speaking as one**_

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><p>The last thing John Proctor remembered was being pushed off the platform as the noose tightened around his neck. Darkness fell across his vision, only to be replaced by an eerie blue light.<p>

_So, you're my newest host. Let me guess. Your daddy's dying of cancer, and so you sold your soul to save him, and became Mephistopheles's attack dog. _John didn't know how to respond. What was that voice? Who was it coming from? _I suppose I should introduce myself. Name's Vengeance. Full name is Spirit of Vengeance. Dunno why I was sent back in time to the here and now, but if you could enlighten me on recent events, I might be able to figure it out. _John was stupefied. How was he supposed to tell Vengeance what happened? The blue light intensified, becoming a formless blue fire. As it did, Proctor could swear he felt someone or something roll its eyes at him. _Just do what you normally do to talk, mortal. Sheesh, do I gotta explain this every time I get a different host?_

"What do you mean by host, man? I do not understand what is happening. Please, sir, explain!" The farmer blinked. Did he just talk? But how? The flames chuckled at his outburst.

_Oh, so the whole host part gets you, but not me being the incarnation of vengeance itself? You mortals, always full of surprises. Can't blame you, really, this would blow anyone's mind. Well, I'll tell what I know, and then we can compare notes, alright?_ John nodded his head, still bewildered at what was going on. _Good. Now then, I am the Spirit of Vengeance. Every few years or so, a mortal finds themselves in a situation where they would sell their soul to save someone or something. That's when he appears. Mephistopheles._

"Who is this Mephistopheles? I have not heard his name before."

_The mortals have many different names for him. Beelzebub, the Dragon, Lucifer, Satan-_

"The Devil! Why is his unholy being part of this story? Tell me you do not work for such a dark being," John demanded. The flames chuckled again.

_Gotta admit, you're faster than most mortals are with this tale. You have no idea how much time you just saved me._ Proctor felt sick. He was conversing with the minion of the foulest, unholy, and sinful being to exist in God's creation. _I wasn't done, mortal. The only reason I'm with the snake is because that's where He put me after Lucifer's fall from heaven. You see, mortal, I exist to prove a point to the Lord of the Flies. Do you wanna know why? _John did not want to know why, but he had a feeling that Vengeance would tell him anyways. _Every time ol' Mephistopheles made a deal and gave me a host, the mortal that hosted me broke away and did his own thing. I'm not his minion. I'm a thorn in his side, and if it were possible to damn me, then I'll be damned if he likes me. Your turn._ John frowned, but considered the fact that Vengeance sounded sincere. Well, as sincere as fire can get. And so the farmer told the story of what happened in Salem, sparing the spirit no details, all the way up to his point of death.

"Speaking of which, why am I not standing before God to be judged?"

'_Cause you ain't dead. _John blinked. How was he not dead? He had been hanged, pushed off the platform; he had felt his neck snap…wait. He never felt his neck snap.

"Explain. How am I not dead?"

_Time has been stopped in your world. This has happened before. Are you about to die?_

"I am accused of witchcraft. If I had confessed to it, my life would have been spared. I refused the court's offer. My name is my own, and I would rather die than let it be used in a lie." For a third time since their meeting, the spirit chuckled.

_Oh, I think you and I are gonna get along real well. To put it simply, you're in the moment right before the noose claims another life. Your life, specifically. Now tell me, mortal. If it were possible for you to keep your name and live, would you do it?_

"As long as I am kept out of the lie, yes."

_Well then, you got two choices. The first one is to accept me, and become my host. Result: you live, but for a price. The second is to reject being my host. Result: you die, and you go on to Judgment. _John knitted his eyebrows together.

"What do you mean by price, sir? Do I have to give you my soul?"

_Nothing so dramatic. Let's just say you won't be yourself, especially at night. Judgment will also be different when you do die. How different depends on what you do while hosting me. And before you ask, no, it's not possession, it is one spirit and one soul in the same body. _Proctor pondered his options.

"Will I be able to see my wife again?"

_Oh, you'll see her, but as for how'll she'll react to you surviving the noose…you'll just have to find out, won't you?_

"I have to see her again; I must make sure she has not been harmed, for she is with child!" When Vengeance didn't respond, John was taken aback, thinking he had offended the spirit. Finally, Vengeance spoke again, though pauses happened many times, as though he were holding back.

_She…is with…child? An innocent woman…with a baby on the way…and they would HANG HER?! _This explosion of fury nearly deafened John. _I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS, MORTAL! ACCEPT MY OFFER SO THAT WE MAY SHOW THESE "RIGHTEOUS" MEN JUST HOW CLOSE THEY ARE FROM __**FALLING INTO THE PIT! **_The blue flame extended towards him, forming a complete arm. John hesitated for the briefest of moments before accepting the outstretched, fiery limb. The flames engulfed him, and the world faded back into view.

The Ghost Rider had been reborn.

~~~~Line Break~~~~

As John Proctor was pushed off the platform, Cheever turned away. John had his chance, and he threw it away. Cheever walked towards his horse, intending to head home. He had just reached the horse when a collective shriek rose up from the crowd behind him. The deputy whipped back around, and saw a sight that filled him with terror.

John Proctor was not hanging from the noose that had been tied around his neck. Instead, a fiery skeleton wearing Proctor's clothes had replaced him, and was currently struggling against the rope. The skeleton broke free of the rope, and snapped the chains clasped on its wrist bones. Many screams and cries filled the air, all of them sending the same message using different words: Run, lest this demon get your soul. Cheever, however, could not move. His fear paralyzed him, even as the skeleton strode up to him. As it approached, Cheever could see that the bone that made the skeleton was blackened as though burned, and the eye sockets were different as well. They were shaped in a way that made it look like the skull was glaring. And it was glaring at him. Cheever fell to his knees, praying feverishly that he would not die tonight. Finally the skeleton had reached Cheever, and was looking down at his pathetic position. Cheever risked looking up at the fiery being of bone, and begged for his life. "P-please, d-do n-n-not kill m-m-m-me! I am an innocent man!" The skeleton responded to his plea by lifting him up by his shirt. It looked him straight in the eye, and spoke four words.

"**So was Giles Corey."**

"Mercy! Please!" The skeleton seemed to consider the deputy's words. Two small flames lit in its eye sockets. Cheever shuddered as a feeling colder than ice raced down his body. The skeleton spoke again.

**"You...mostly...innocent."** The skeleton dropped Cheever, who quickly scrambled away. The skeleton then approached Cheever's horse, who only looked at the skeleton; instinct told the equine to not move. The skeleton laid its bony hands on the horse's side, opened its mouth, and _hissed. _The horse shuddered and twitched as hellfire spread across its body, charring its mane and coat a burnt black. Its mane then caught on fire, as did its hooves and tail. The horse's eyes became similar to the skeleton's eyes, only the fire completely filled the horse's eye sockets. The horse reared back and let out a distorted whinny, then slammed its hooves into the ground, leaving small craters. Satisfied, the skeleton took a step back, then swung itself up and into the saddle, which had turned to metal and fused with the horse's back. **"Don't mess up again. God may give second chances,"** the skeleton spoke, swinging its skull to look at Cheever. **"But the Ghost Rider does not."** With that, the Ghost Rider snapped the chain-link reins, and the Demon Stallion took off into the darkness of the early-morning twilight. It was only when the Rider left that Cheever was able to speak again.

"May God help us all."

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><p><strong>Short chapter, but hey, not a bad start. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you when the next chapter comes up!<strong>

**jsun25, logging off**


	2. First Victim

**Hello readers! Welcome to the second chapter of Rider of Salem! This chapter will set up Ghost Rider's adventures for the future, up until he returns to Salem.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or prayers in this story.**

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><p>"Normal": Human<p>

**"Bold": Rider**

_**"Bold Italics": Rider and Vengeance speaking as one**_

_"Italics": John Proctor inside Rider's head_

_Underlined Italics: Vengeance inside Rider's head_

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><p>Judge Danforth sighed as he read the letters sent in to try and liberate those accused of witchcraft. It didn't matter; as long as his reputation was at stake if he released the people scheduled to be executed, they would not walk free. "Not anything to do about it, yet the fools keeps on begging me to pardon them. Whether stubborn or stupid, it grows tiresome." Thomas Putnam, who had been reading the Bible as Danforth went through the letters, looked up as the old judge spoke.<p>

"Perhaps you should simply reject any letters with that particular subject, Mr. Danforth." Danforth snorted, wishing that a solution so simple were possible.

"If only it were that easy, Putnam." Just then, Reverend Hale burst through the door, heaving and gasping for breath. "Mr. Hale? What's the matter, Reverend? You look as though you ran from the Devil himself." Hale continued to breathe heavily, regaining his composure, speaking quickly as he did so.

"Not the Devil, sir- but a creature close enough! I was traveling back to my lodgings when a flaming skeleton riding a hellish horse burst through the trees, directly in front of me. My own horse had reared back in fright, throwing me to the ground. The skeleton saw me, and approached. It- it spoke to me, sir."

"What did it say, man? Speak!"

"The creature bid me run to the courts, and warn you, Judge." Danforth cocked an eyebrow.

"Warn me of what, Reverend?" Hoofsteps, approaching quickly, sounded outside the court. Panic filled Hale's face.

"The creature comes for you, sir!" Though the court's main doors were designed to open outwards, they exploded inwards as a demonic looking stallion galloped through them. It came to a stop in the middle of the room, and reared back, giving off a whinny that sounded as hellish as it looked. It slammed its hooves into the ground, and the rider of the horse was revealed. A skeleton, burnt black, and on fire.

The Ghost Rider had found his first target.

~~~~Line Break~~~~

As Rider dismounted his Demon Stallion, he took survey of the room. Three men, Hale, the judge, and an unknown human, were gaping at him. The judge quickly regained his composure, and snapped at Hale, of whom Proctor had told the Rider about. He was clean of the so-called 'trials'. "Reverend! This is obviously a demon, and you are a man of God, are you not? Remove this creature!" The Rider watched as Hale gulped, but obeyed. Rider couldn't blame him, nor would he act against the Reverend. The man was innocent.

"Demon! In the name of God Most High, I command you to leave this place!" Rider simply looked at the reverend and tilted his head. Oh, the mortals were _so_ amusing.

"**I'm sorry; we're all out of tickets to Zero Craps Given Island. Would you prefer a ticket to Shut The Hell Up Isle instead?" **Hale's expression had gone from unsure to bewildered and confused. **"I'm no demon, Hale. You want a demon? There's two of them right there." **Putnam sputtered, but said nothing as the Ghost Rider's gaze swung to him. Danforth, however, remained calm.

"You will leave, demon. God is on our side, and there is no way you can harm us while He stands with us."

"**God is with you, is He? Allow me to correct you." **Rider pointed at Putnam, who began visibly trembling. **"Give me your Bible, mortal." **Putnam started to object, but reconsidered. He gave Rider the Bible, backing off quickly. **"You have a cross somewhere on you, priesty. Lemme have it." **Unlike Putnam, Hale wasted no time giving Rider his cross. **"Now then, I'm holding both God's Word and a cross. Still think I'm a demon?" **Danforth's expression remained the same.** "Stubborn mortal. Fine. I'm overdue to say this anyways." **Rider knelt on the floor of the court, clutching both Bible and cross. As he knelt, Rider underwent a transformation. His flame turned blue, his bone became white as pearl, and the glare permanently etched into his skull lessened it that of a normal skull's toothy grin. When he spoke again, his voice was different, as though two entities were speaking through one mouth. The words that came from Rider's lipless mouth shocked the three men in the courtroom:

"_**Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us of our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for yours is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen."**_

When Rider's prayer ended, his flames blazed brighter than before, engulfing him in a blue light. For a moment, Hale could've sworn he saw another man standing in the flames, right next to Rider. When the flames died down to the norm, they turned orange again, and Rider became the way he was before. Giving Putnam back his Bible, Rider turned to Hale, and held up the cross questioningly. Hale nodded, and Rider pocketed the cross. Danforth grew tired of the silence, and broke it. "Hale! Are you going to drive out the demon, or not?!"

"This is not a demon, sir; it is of God's work. It doesn't come from the abyss. I have no power over it." As Hale spoke, Rider moved. He went over to his demonic horse, and removed the chain that served as reins for the stallion.

"**Your time has come, Danforth. Too many innocent have died by your order." **Rider snapped the chain towards Danforth, and it wrapped around him. **"Their blood is on your hands!" **Rider yanked, and Danforth was sent tumbling from the judge's seat, landing in front of Rider. Rider pulled him up, so that they were face-to-face. **"Look into my eyes…feel their pain!"** Danforth had no choice but to stare into Rider's eye sockets, in which tiny flames had lit. As he did, visions flashed before his eyes; men and women being pushed off the platform, children crying as they were pushed, husbands and wives crying out as they died, and the pain, the _pain_ of it all, stabbed and snapped until Danforth couldn't take the flaming visions anymore. He screamed a scream primal as time itself, and Danforth saw no more. When Danforth's eyes turned coal black, Rider let go of him, his work done. Putnam had had enough, and bolted for the doors. Without even looking at him, Rider whipped his chain towards Putnam. It wrapped around Putnam, and the fool of a man struggled against the chain, not wanting to meet Danforth's fate. Rider yanked on the chain again, but this time, it tore through Putnam, turning him to ash. Wordlessly, Ghost Rider threaded the chain back through the Demon Stallion's bridle, and remounted the horse. **"Look after Elizabeth, Reverend. Nothing stupid or I won't be the one you'll deal with. John Proctor would be more than happy to wail on you for any misstep." **He flicked the chains, and the Demon Stallion took off, leaving fiery hoofsteps and a distorted whinny in his wake. It was only after Ghost Rider had left that Hale was able to speak.

"John Proctor?"

~~~~Line Break~~~~

_In Ghost Rider's head:_

_John watched as Vengeance directed the Rider to head deep into the forest. He spoke questioning the spirit. "Where are we headed, Vengeance?"_

_There's more than just this world out there, mortal. How do you feel about seeing this world's future?_

"_The future? That would be incredible! How do we get there?"_

_Heh. Just like this._

~~~~Line Break~~~~

Ghost Rider roared, and a swirling circle of darkness opened up. Rider rode his stallion into the portal without hesitating, and as the darkest hero disappeared, peace settled over Salem. However, that peace would not last. A few someones were coming to Salem, and all it would do was spark the flame of the trials all over again. Beware the twilight, and the twilight's bearer, for they would stir up the hornet's nest that was Salem.

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><p><strong>As I said, this chapter sets up Rider and Salem for what's coming their way. I have no idea if what I wrote can really happen to Ghost Rider, but since this is my version of the Rider, it can. Anyways, the next chapter will not be in this story. I'll let you guys know when it's up. See you later!<strong>

**jsun25, logging off**


	3. First Night, Begin!

**And here it is! The third installment of Rider of Salem, and the longest yet. I know I said that this chapter wouldn't be under this title, but I decided that it'd be too much work for you guys to have to keep track of where the next chapter would be. So, all RoS chapters will be under this title. Now that that's out of the way, let's move on!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story, even though I'd love to.**

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><p>"Normal": Human<p>

_Underlined Italics: Vengeance_

_"Italics": Someone talking over a phone or similar device_

_"Underlined Italics": Ghost Rider_

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><p>In a dark alley, a swirl of darkness that could be described as a portal appeared. For a moment, nothing happened. A figure burst from the portal, with a fiery trail following it. As the portal disappeared, Ghost Rider pulled on the reins of the Demon Stallion, and the hellish horse came to a stop. Rider dismounted, and looked towards the alley's opening. Slowly but surely, daylight was approaching. When the sunlight touched Rider and his horse, a change happened. The flames were extinguished, and skin and hair regrew over the exposed bone. John Proctor had come back to the living. With a sudden flash of light, Proctor's attire changed. Gone were the torn and tattered shirt and breeches he was wearing. In their place was a gray t-shirt and denim jeans. On his feet were hiking boots, and a trench coat covered the shirt and jeans. The horse had been changed as well. A Harley-Davidson chopper replaced the chestnut horse. Its coloring was simple, with black leather and chrome-plated metal. After John regained his bearings, he took notice of the motorcycle and different clothes.<p>

"What is this? Where have my clothes and horse gone?"

_Supposed I shoulda warned you, mortal. Whenever we travel through time, our appearance changes, as does our ride, to fit the current era._

"And what changes our appearance?"

_Time._ Blinking at Vengeance's short answer, John walked up to the motorcycle.

"How am I to ride this when I know nothing about it?"

_Gimme a second. I've never really had to do this before. _John waited, inspecting the cycle. He decided that as long as it became a horse whenever they went home, he'd be fine with whatever it changed to. Suddenly, knowledge flashed through his mind. John staggered, reeling from the burst of information. When he had a sense of balance again, John slowly stood up straight again. He looked at the motorcycle again, but this time, he knew practically everything about it.

"How-"

_I told you, mortal. We're sharing a body. That means I can transfer smarts about whatever, whenever, or wherever you need. For instance, the year is 1993, and we're in Elliot City, Maryland._

"1993…300 years…" To say that John was bewildered was an understatement. Vengeance chuckled.

_You mortals. Astounded by the smallest things._ Rolling his eyes, John mounted the chopper, and drove out of the alley into the streets of Elliot City. Getting the feel of driving the cycle, he noticed a strange smell.

"Vengeance, do you know what that smell is?" Vengeance was quiet. Remembering the last time the spirit had hesitated in answering, John braced himself.

_Blood of the innocent. At least five of them. But it's old…at least six years._ John said nothing. Five innocents, hurt? _Follow the smell, mortal. It should get stronger the closer we get._ John obeyed, letting the smell fill his nostrils. As it became stronger, Vengeance spoke up again. _That's…strange. The innocents' blood is mixed with the blood of the guilty…keep driving._

~~~~Line Break~~~~

Harold was panicking. The last security guard had quit, and he was running out of time to find a new one. If he didn't find one, he would have to fill the position, and the manager knew he wouldn't make the first night. Not with _them _roaming after midnight. The sound of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot shook him from his scared state. He heard the front doors open, and he stuck his head outside his office to take a look. Standing in the entrance was a tall, fit man. His hair was shoulder length, and he had a day-old beard on his bottom jaw and chin. A black trench coat was draped around his body, covering a gray t-shirt and denim jeans. Hiking boots held his feet. Praying to whoever was listening, Harold stepped out of his office to greet the man.

"Hello, there. I'm Harold Jameson. May I ask why you are here, Mister…?" The man stepped forwards, extending his hand.

"Proctor. John Proctor." Harold shook the extended hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Proctor. Again, may I ask why you're here? The restaurant isn't open yet." John's eyes grew distant for a moment, but refocused so quickly that Harold wondered if he imagined it.

"I'm here to take the night guard position. A friend told me that you needed one, so here I am." If Harold weren't in business mode, he might have fainted right there. This was nothing less than a miracle. "Hello? Mr. Jameson? Are you all right?" Harold mentally shook himself, and focused on the lifeline standing in front of him.

"Yes…yes, I'm fine. Just relieved, is all. Very few want to take the position, you see." A quizzical expression appeared on John's face, and Harold spoke quickly before John could say anything. "Since you seem to not have been here before, I'd best give you a tour." He walked off, John shrugging and following in his wake. The very first room they entered was the main party room. The room had a stage up front, and on the stage were three animatronics. John gaped as he caught sight of the robotic animals. Catching sight of John's face, Harold couldn't help but smile. The man looked like many a kid who had come for the very first time. "John, I'd like you to meet the main attractions. Say hello to Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica."

~~~~Line Break~~~~

John stared at the animatronics, amazed. Vengeance had filled him in on the technological advances of the past 300 years, but to actually see it up close…it was incredible.

_The blood! The smell is coming from them, mortal!_ Vengeance's sudden outburst surprised John. _Ask him about other animatronics, mortal. We have to find them._

"Are there any other animatronics, Mr. Jameson?" Harold, who was over by a curtain with purple stars decorating it, looked up.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I was actually just about to show you." He pulled aside the curtain to reveal a torn and tattered fox animatronic. "This is Foxy. We haven't really gotten around to repairing him yet, so he stays back here during hours."

"Is there a fifth?" Harold looked confused.

"A fifth? No, Mr. Proctor, there isn't. Why do you ask?" Heard only by John, Vengeance growled.

_The frightened fool is telling the truth…he truly believes that these four are the only animatronics. We'll have to find the fifth ourselves._ With that, he was silent. Harold showed John the rest of the building, and when they finished, the two men walked back to the entrance.

"Well, John, I hope you enjoyed the tour. You'll start tonight, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Mr. Jameson." As John turned to leave, he could've sworn that he saw Freddy give him a challenging glare. Undaunted, John returned the favor. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it." He left, leaving a dumbfounded manager in his wake. Sighing, Harold shook his head.

"God rest his soul…"

~~~~Line Break~~~~

At 11:50 p.m., John once again pulled into the parking lot of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Walking past the Show Stage, he took a glance at the animatronics. Nothing out of the ordinary; nothing he couldn't see, anyways. The farmer-turned-host hardened his resolve as he remembered the lessons that Vengeance had given him on the Riders of the past. Even though the robotic animals reeked of the blood of the innocent, there was no way to prove that the motley crew had killed any innocent children. Blood of guilty people also tainted them, but it was overpowered by the innocents' smell. Until mortal and spirit knew for sure why they reeked of the blood, neither would act. Glancing at a clock above the stage, John hurried to the office. Time to get to work. Inside, John sat down, taking notice of the buttons that said "Door" and "Light" on either side of him.

_Grab the metal rectangle on the desk, mortal. We may need that._ Seeing the rectangle that Vengeance spoke of, John picked it up. He found himself looking at the animatronics from an angle, which was panning back and forth.

"Incredible! What is this?"

_It's a camera feed. See the white outlines with numbers and letters? I'm bettin' that if you press them, you'll get a different feed._ John tested Vengeance's theory with success. He also took note of the number with a symbol next to it.

"What is that number?"

_Amount of power left, I'd say. Probably best not to let it run out._ Suddenly, a loud ringing came from a device on the desk.

"_Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay? _

_"Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, 'Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced.'"_

_WHAT?_

"_Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay. _

_"So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?"_

"Vengeance…"

_I know, mortal. This place is darker than it appeared._

"_Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours, probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh. _

_"Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."_

The man's voice ended with a click. John simply sat, dumbfounded both at the technology and the man's revelations about the animatronics. Suddenly, Vengeance shouted at him.

_Mortal! The rabbit! It's on the move!_ Quickly, John checked the cameras. He found Bonnie in the West Hall, unmoving, but definitely not onstage where he was supposed to be. _So that's it,_ Vengeance growled. _Demons possessed the animatronic suits and have killed every security guard that has worked here. That explains why the smells of innocent and guilty are both on the suits._ John, who was switching between the camera feeds and watching the doors, disagreed.

"That's possible, but instinct tells me that isn't right."

_Instinct?_

"I was a farmer, Vengeance. Instinct told me what to plant, when to plant it, when it was ready for harvest, when it was best to wait. It hasn't been wrong yet."

…_Alright, mortal. I'll go with you for now. But just in case something happens…_ Making sure that no animatronics were close enough to grab John, Vengeance began the change. In a flash of hellfire, Ghost Rider stood in John Proctor's place. Rider glared at the animatronics through the camera feed.

"_Game on."_

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><p><strong>Show of hands. Who knew where Ghost Rider was headed when the story said "1993", "six years old", and did the math? Not to mention "five innocents". While I was trying to decide where to send Rider, this popped into my head, and I had to write it. Not sure when the next chapter will be up, but I promise, it'll be as soon as possible!<strong>

**jsun25, logging off**


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